Two Steps Beyond
by Zarius
Summary: "Tonight on a very special TMNT...Michelangelo plays the drums, April kicks things up a notch, Chip Stardust is dying his hair, and there's something noone on the bright side of Saturday morning likes to face..."


**TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES:**

**TWO STEPS BEYOND**

**WRITTEN BY ZARIUS**

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><p><strong>Note: <strong>This story takes place in the same universe as my ten book TMNT series and follows it's continuity, where April O'Neil and Michelangelo are a bit of an item. For reference to when the relationship between Michelangelo and April O'Neil began, read "Mutants and Miracles"

This is a BIT adult in places, and definitely not your "granddaddy's 80s TMNT. Cheers. -Zarius

**Disclaimer:** TMNT is owned by Nickelodeon Studios. No profit to be made here

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><p>Michelangelo observed the mess he had made in the kitchen.<p>

Several cabinets were open, a blue box of condensed sugar spilling on to the floor, and an overturned table told a telling tale of desperation.

All of this, and he still could not find the one slice of pizza he had been saving since games night on the prior Friday.

He had tried the top cabinet, by standing on the table, only for it give way and send him careening into the rim of the sink, his hand grasping the open box of sugar, causing it to release it's contents.

Michelangelo's stomach rumbled. He was not fit to play on an empty belly.

But he would have to make do.

He returned to the main living area of the apartment belonging to his lover, crack reporter April O'Neil, friend to Turtles and all out wacky notions of creation everywhere, his tough little fortune cookie. Always quick with a smile and boundless in her energy.

And, if she could see the state of her kitchen, would probably soundly demonstrate the righteous fury of a warrior harpy.

And she'd been taking lessons from Splinter, so he had every reason to tread more carefully than he already had.

Or maybe this act of lunacy was a subconscious effort on his part to test her patience with him

He decided to escape these thoughts by resuming his state of play.

He stared at the drum kit he had been assembling all afternoon while April had nipped out to the shops, he sat down on the cushy black circular seat that stood before the massive drums. He tucked a pair of headphones neatly into the left and right sides of his head, picked up the drum sticks, and pressed play on his tablet.

The sticks crashed against the base of the drums, Michelangelo raved and rattled his head as the music played at the loudest his volumes could manage.

And, as she came in the door, her arms carrying as many parcels of groceries as she could reasonably carry, April O'Neil's face painted a vivid portrait of a woman tired of all work and no play.

She called his name three times. it fell on the ears otherwise too well occupied with the music blaring from the tablet. April caught on pretty quickly, threw the grocery bags down, slipped out of her high heels, and marched over to one of the drums and kicked it down onto Michelangelo's own exposed foot.

"Yeow" Michelangelo said as he let loose. April thought that would get his attention, but she quickly learned that he was yelling in-sych with a series of "yeows" coming from the music he was playing.

As he continued to crash about, so transfixed with the music and lost in the rhythm of the motion the fact one of the drums was down did not even occur to him, April sighed, picked up the grocery bags, and headed into the kitchen, where she stood transfixed in awe at the marvelous mess left by Michelangelo. Words failed her at this point, she put the bags down on the floor, took off her purple coat, threw it on the back of one of the chairs, stuck her hand in one of the grocery bags, took out a packet of cold fries and popped them in the microwave

Michelangelo finally opened his eyes and gazed at April's familiar frame in the kitchen, and swiftly looked down to find one of the drums settled on his foot.

"MY TOE, MY TOE" he yelled, limping about with an expression that could almost come from a video game.

"Ah, the hills are alive with the sound of Mikey" April said as she came back from the kitchen, armed with a bottle of brown ketchup and a hot plate of fries that she smothered with the sauce. She placed the fries on the small table opposite the couch and started to loosen her skirt. "I think your yelling alone will stir half the neighbors below us let alone the drumming"

"No fair babe, I'm putting something together, no need to cause injury over a good kind of cause" Michelangelo complained, though the fact April had just dropped her skirt and had slowly stepped out of it had him cutting back on the criticisms aimed at her.

"Tell me what's going on" April said, falling back on the sofa and kicking her bare feet madly about in the air. Michelangelo tried to compose himself.

"Chip Stardust is in a pretty bad shape in hospital" said Michelangelo, "They're running a competition to see who can make a mix album that can raise his spirits up while he recovers"

"Chip Stardust eh? He was a pretty rocking cat back when my parents were down with the disco scene. Hope he pulls through"

"Well they're saying he's a bit cold at the touch, but there's nothing to worry about"

"Mike, let me see that tablet for a minute" April said, springing back up from the couch.

Michelangelo handed it to her. She browsed through the apps looking for a news item.

After a few minutes, she found something. Upon reading the item, she looked back at the state of the kitchen and the clean-up it would entail.

She looked back at Michelangelo's dimwitted and sheepish expression. He was expecting a lecture. She would indulge him with one, she simply permitted herself a slight smile, her sharp eyes failing to disguise that she was full of concern for some reason.

"You know what? I've had a pretty average day, and it just keeps getting less exciting. We're having a talk. But first: Food"

April picked the plate back up and began cramming the fries laced with ketchup in her mouth. Michelangelo's face slightly melted away, all the pain from his foot seemed to evaporate and the swift anger he felt at his girl compromising his toe fell sway to the rather unusually endearing site of April putting aside regular manners to escape the pressures of regularity in their lives.

After April finished, she walked over to the drums, clasped Michelangelo's hand, and looked deeply into his eyes.

"He's dying Mike. Chip Stardust. I read it on the news app"

"Yeah, dying his hair white, it says so right there"

"No it doesn't"

"It read exactly that way"

"In your mind?"

"Well...yeah" Michelangelo admitted

"Do you do this a lot?" April asked

"Sorta...only with the unimportant stuff" Michelangelo confessed

"What's so unimportant about death?" April asked, "And be candid, it makes the story what it is, all good reporters know that"

"Well...it's just not a world I'm used to seeing. We're all goofy grins, get up every Saturday morning, mallet a mobster, shred the Shredder, conquer Krang, derail Dimension X, bury Baxter, all neat and gnarly don't you think? Like it should always stay that way..."

April's left hand gently graced his right cheek

"But it's not that way all the time. Even in this world. With the dawn of life comes the eclipse of night, people get to a certain age, sometimes they exceed the expected age if they're lucky, and they let go"

"We're heroes April. You know that, We don't face that, we can't, it's against the script"

"But you have to. On point with the script? Maybe not, but our lives carry on off-the-record too. Look at how far you've come in the last several months. You and me. Donny and Irma. We're moving forward, you're not a teenager, and I'm not some naive adult thinking this sort of story can never work. We've all evolved, you're something else now. You're more than the jokester who doesn't see the abruptness of life. You're seeing it all now. We've all gone one step beyond what we always figured we could be. It's terrifying, it's exciting, and it's real"

April led Michelangelo away from the drum stand and into the still quiet of the bedroom. She laid him down on the bedspread, and gently took off his mask, before wrapping both arms around her pink t-shirt and peeling it off, revealing a velvet black bra that she was quick to unhinge and part ways with

"Whether it's my time to go, or your time to go, we must never lose sight in our journey from genesis to exodus of just how _real_ life can be, how short it could be, however dangerous, however challenging, revel in it"

She slowly graced his cheeks with her lips, sweetening his beaming, blushing expression with tender kisses.

"Let me prove how real this all is" she finished before her lips made full contact with his mouth

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

The next morning, Michelangelo stirred from a now partially empty bed. He found a newspaper to the right of him.

"You up?" said a voice from the bathroom.

Michelangelo reached for his mask and put it on, he noticed a pair of reading glasses also. He smiled and put them on, he seemed to feel a whole lot more sophisticated than he did earlier the previous day

He browsed through the paper.

"Hey, they have two for one off the bumper car rides at the Disco Palace" he said

"Keep reading" she said

Michelangelo turned a few pages, "Should I read the numbers out as I do, or are you going to give me the page number?"

"You'll know when you see it" April said

Michelangelo obliged, the notion occurred to him that what he might find could be in the obituary column.

A part of him felt a slight tingle, a place where dread ought to be, yet all he could afford was a flutter.

Even now, having confronted the fear and tension of death yesterday, he found there was seemingly no concern at all.

He browsed through the index of obituaries. Chip Stardust was not included.

No sudden overnight death. Nothing to remind him of how short things could be.

He double checked on the tablet's news app, sure enough, Chip Stardust, while still dying, had survived the night.

"Life conquers all" Michelangelo said.

April came back in, a warm sassy and flirtatious smile on her face. In gazing at her beautiful body, graced only with a black thong, and both her hands holding up two coffee mugs with pizza slices in them at the tip of her breasts, Michelangelo thanked whatever force that had conspired against Mother Nature to create him and his brothers for the opportunity to relish just how he could survive every night.

To come back to reality.

To come back to her.

"One slice or two...?" she said, "Both are pretty cold though"

"Babe, we went two steps beyond last night. I'll settle with who brought the heat then. Come over here"

And from a painfully average day-turned-exciting-evening now came an exciting morning that could only build into an eventful, incredible series of months and years of continuous laughter and love for as long as life could afford them


End file.
